Every Time It Rains
by Ricco Ragazza
Summary: A dark fic with a happy ending.


The Power Of Goodbye

Every Time It Rains

By Ricco Ragazza

Disclaimer: Mesa Ricco Ragazza! Me not make gay character Jar-Jar Binks! PLEASE, never give him me credits. HAHA! George Lucas is to blame for Jar-Jar, not me~! Yes, at least I don't have to take the blame for that mistake, thank God.

**AN~** I don't know how I came up with this, what can I say? I was bored, my mind ran away with me(Where we went…God only knows, cause we aren't back yet) and you do the math! So, I hope you like it! Please, remember to review! I tried to make this fic good, so be nice! I know I'm not very good and all, but, hey! I do have feelings! :-p lol Ok, it's not that bad! Yada, yada, yada, read&review! If you wanna be really _super-duper_ nice you can e-mail me: [riccoragazza@aol.com][1] And tell me what you think! All comments are welcome, as long as they are constructive and make sense! :-) Thanks!!!!

~*~

**Every Time It Rains**

**~*~**

**~By Ricco Ragazza~**

**~*~**

** **

** **

Every time it rains, my thoughts go back to him. I wish they wouldn't, because the memories are too painful to bear. Whoever said you couldn't die from a broken heart obliviously never had one quite like this. The memories burn my heart and mind, they make me look for a way out, anyway way would do, but I can only think of one.

I walk over to my window and stare blankly out at the dark day-time sky. The patter of the rain on the glass is almost soothing, but not as soothing as his voice would be right now. The droplets of rain run across my window, some slow and some fast. Sometimes, when I am really bored, I pretend two or more of them are in a race and I wait to see which one makes it to the end of my window first. That's what kind of free time I have been dealing with, and these days all seem to drag on forever.

I don't see out the window, instead I see my own reflection. I really don't even know that woman who is staring back at me. In my mind I am sixteen year old…not twenty-six year old. My face is already showing wrinkles; wrinkles from the stress, wrinkles from the torment, wrinkles from the hardships; but most of all wrinkles from the crying.

My hair is the same though: Long, brown, and partly curly. It cascades way past my shoulders now, but I never have the energy to put it up anymore, and without handmaidens, I probably wouldn't do that great of a job anyway.

Done staring at myself in the glass, my gaze falls to my hands, which are lying on my thighs. Definitely, not the hands of a lady, battle hardened and scarred. I catch the glimpse of a gold diamond ring on my finger. Anger takes over all the other emotions floating in my head. For some reason, I don't feel like crying now. I feel like melting this ring and pouring it on the man who gave it to me. Alas, for I will never see him again, because he is gone. Not just gone, he's dead; dead to me, and to his old life at least.

I pry the ring of my finger and turn and throw it. It hits the floor, then rolls and falls down and does circles before it comes to a stop. I stare at it for a long moment before I go and pick it up. What should I do with it? All my hate for him is transferred into this ring for the moment, and that hate is overwhelming.

I walk over to it, and stare for another moment before picking it up. I don't really have a plan on what to do, so I just make it all up as I go along. Hmmm, that reminds of my relationship with him, every thought leads to him, actually.

I stoop down and snatch it up in my right hand. While covering it in my fist I walk over to my balcony doors. I push the doors open with ease and walk out into the rain. Rain pelts me, but I don't care. Self inflicted pain of any kind brings a sort of pleasure to me, actually. Lightening cracks throughout the sky in front of me, but I'm not daunted. I uncurl my fingers from the ring and think.

What does this ring remind me of? It reminds me of him, it reminds me of what I've lost, it reminds me of pain, and it reminds me-it reminds me of love. Of love? Why love? I can't really remember what love is like, in any form or feeling. It hasn't been that long, only a year or two. Why do the good memories fade so quickly, but the bad ones last forever? I should have held on tighter to my good memories, oh look, another thing to regret! Lucky me, huh?

Suddenly, I am aware that I am now totally drenched with rain water, and that lightening is flashing in my vision much more frequently than before. This rain, it's just like the rain on the night he left me. It is freezing when it hits you, and then the counter attack of the wind bites and stings at your body after you have gotten wet. Oh, how I love rain.

If I could hurt this rain I would, but I don't think a person can hurt rain. I would punch at it, bite it, do whatever it would take, but the rain wouldn't be harmed, I know. I hate the rain, I hate him, and I hate this ring. I don't think I love anything anymore…but, wait, yes. I love two things, but, alas for poor me, they will never know me.

Life is getting to be more of a chore than anything, and I never peticulary liked chores. If I end it all, the pain will be gone, I'll be at peace. My mind really starts to run over the idea. I can't think of anything better to do, so I give in.

I drop the ring at my feet and walk over the balcony and look down, yes the fall will kill me.

Before I step onto the slick balcony, I look over my life. Without pain now, I am too numbed from pain to feel anything. I led a good life until last year, why did everything have to change? If I ask myself that enough times, I might come up with an answer. You don't agree with me? Well, don't feel bad because I don't agree with myself either.

I gave up my children, I gave up my husband, I gave up my planet, I gave up my family, and I gave up my friends. To what though? The answer comes quickly; to the empire. My mind curses the name. The empire is the only thing I hate more than him. Yes, and it's the reason I hate him. But you know what? I can't give up my life to the empire, its all I have left, and they can't make me give up. I can't give them the satisfaction of knowing I gave up. They'll never have a look of satisfaction on their faces when they think of me, I can bet you that much.

I look out over this planet that has no name to me, I hate it here; it rains too much. Yet, every time that it rains I think of him, and the thought will bring a smile to my lips. He gave in, he crumbled, he wasn't strong enough. Every time it rains, he thinks of me, and you know what? He knows I am strong, much stronger than him, and that I will go on. I won't give in, and I won't crumble. He'll never have the satisfaction of knowing I wasn't strong. And most of all he will know until the day he dies, that every time it rains, I smile.

**EN~ Like it? Hate it? TELL ME DANGIT! I mean, Please? I'll review your stories if you review mine! And if you aren't a writer, I will write a fic for you or something! So, leave suggestions and comments, please????? PLEASE?????**

   [1]: mailto:riccoragazza@aol.com



End file.
